Reveal (Wicked Ways #2)(95)

“I never—”

“Save it for your family who will buy your bullshit. Not me. Uh-uh. What I don’t understand is this . . . if Samantha really shot you like you told the police she did, then why did you never pursue it? Why did you not take all this money you spend buying books you’ll never read and get vengeance on the person who turned you into a bag of useless bones? A single shot to the spine? Isn’t that where Sam shot you? Oh, yes. I forgot. That’s what the police report says, but the medical records show that the shot was more aimed at your pelvis. Can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want those details out there.”

I chuckle and shake my head. My own restlessness breathing the same air as this piece of shit is more than I can stand.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re lying—”

“Took you a minute to find your backbone to stand up for yourself, but I guess Samantha took care of that when she shot you after you raped her one too many times. Huh?”

“Beatrice!” he shouts again, and within seconds I have the doors shut to the library.

I’m nowhere near finished with him yet.

“I want you out of my house, right now. I’ll call the cops. I’ll—”

“Please do. We can square up this matter right now and get their files updated with what really should be in there.” I point to the phone on the desk. “Should I dial for you?”

“Whatever Samantha told you is a lie.”

“It is?” I hold the chain up so the key swings back and forth. “Remember this? She used to wear it all the time.”

He shrugs as best as he can. “So?”

“This right here is the key.” I laugh. “Get it? The key? The one that holds all the evidence to prove she wasn’t lying.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you?”

“Believe me. Don’t believe me. I couldn’t care less. The documents don’t lie.” But I do. Hell, I’m lying through my teeth. At least being a lawyer pays off at some point. “Journals that document your threats to her. Calendars with each and every time you touched her notated. It’s like a road map to your sick and twisted abuse.”

“I didn’t touch her.”

“You say the words, but the look on your face, the sheer terror that I’m going to let the world know that the brilliant mind is also a sick fuck? That paints a whole different story.”

His face grows paler, if that’s possible. “What do you want?”

“I want you to admit you did it.”

“No.”

“No, you won’t admit it, or no, you didn’t do it?” I press. “Just a few simple words and I’ll leave.” My smile is less than sincere.

“Why are you here?”

“I just told you.”

“You want something else, though. I’m not naive enough to believe there isn’t more to it.”

“See? They were right. You do have a brilliant mind. That Uncle James is a smart one.” I squat down so I’m at his eye level. “Here’s what I want. I want you to drop any and all charges against Samantha and Vaughn Sanders.”

“I can’t—”

“Oh, but you can. I’m a lawyer. I know how these things work.” I lift my eyebrows. “So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to call the prosecuting attorney who got the warrant issued way back when and tell him you want a motion brought before the issuing judge to get it dropped.”

“That’s not how it works.”

My laugh holds everything but humor as it ricochets off the walls. “I’m more than aware how the process works, but there’s no way in hell I’m making Samantha or Vaughn surrender themselves to the court to ask the judge to release the warrant.” I rise to my feet and cross my arms over my chest, my physical threat undeniable. “So figure it out. It seems you’ve paid off enough people in Greenwich that greasing a few more palms won’t turn heads.”

“Just like that?” he asks. “You think they’re not going to question why?”

“Obviously you’re skilled at telling lies and keeping up false pretenses, so I’m sure you can think of something to explain why you’ve had a change of heart. Why you previously thought it was your nieces who assaulted you but now know differently. You were shot in the spine, so how could you have seen who the assailant was?” I wink. “See, this is where your lies catch up with you and make it easier for me.”

“They’ll see through that.” His voice is a rasped wheeze at this point.

“Like I said, you’ve paid them enough to keep quiet so far, so I’m sure shelling out some more cash really won’t be that taxing for you.”

“What’s this to you?” he asks.

I take a moment, draw in a deep breath, and nod. “Because you’ve hurt Sam and Vaughn enough for a lifetime. You’ve scarred them so deeply that no matter how many calluses have grown over the scars, they still turn to blisters with the simplest mention of your name. I’m sure it gives you great pleasure—that hearing you’ve fucked them up for life gets you off—but I’m here to put an end to it. Right here. Right now.”

“Leave it to Sam to find a vigilante to protect her,” he sneers, and I don’t correct him.